


Clean the Slate

by maxride003



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Leverage (show), Gen, Heist, Leverage AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-09-04
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxride003/pseuds/maxride003
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Director has gathered a collection of criminals that he has shaped and trained into two cohesive units. The members of the Freelancer group have followed his direction and accepted his jobs for many years, until his true motives - and the lies he had been spreading - are discovered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Washington

**Author's Note:**

> Who's writing a new fic? That's right, it'd be me! Deciding to dip into some RvB stuff for a bit, give me something to work on when I get overwhelmed with FAHC stuff. But as always, let me know what you think and please enjoy this first chapter!

**Four Years Ago**

 David Washington, renowned thief and fence, was in a shitload of trouble.

Currently, Wash was hiding out in a dump of a hotel, trying to work out his next move. He sat alone and in silence, cross-legged on the thin and scratchy comforter covering the bed, while he poured desperately over a battered notebook open on his lap.

He had to still have something. Somewhere, he had to have miscalculated, and maybe he wasn’t as broke as he thought he was. Wash stared at his notes, most of them scribbled out in a hasty code he had developed years ago. Did he really lose fifteen grand at the casinos a week ago? He could’ve sworn he’d stopped before then… And he didn’t _really_ throw away twenty grand in a private poker match two nights ago…did he?

Groaning loudly, Wash raked a hand through his blond hair, making it stick up in all directions. He rubbed at his mouth and his freckled nose, eyes locked onto the pages as he flipped through them hastily. Really, Wash didn’t know why he continued to doubt his own notes – he was very careful about keeping track of his finances, even if he wasn’t so good at keeping the money in his wallet. Careful notes had even been taken on the nights where he had been so drunk he barely remembered what he’d done to lose everything. He hadn’t made any mistakes.

Wash flipped to the very back of the notebook, where his jobs were jotted down far more carefully than everything else. He’d successfully completed a sale four days ago, but most of the money he’d gotten as his cut had already been blown, and he didn’t have another client lined up for another week. Business had been frustratingly slow recently, and Wash wished he’d been more proactive in finding work.

Instead, even thieving had fallen by the wayside, in lieu of gambling his wealth away to different groups of assholes in fancy suits and gun holsters.

Wash paused, halfway through turning a page, and then scrambled for his phone. Thieving. That was probably the best way to go, and he could do that with only a little bit of planning. There had to be something in town that was worth enough and that he could access within the day. And even if he couldn’t sell it off, maybe his bookie would accept an item whose value was roughly equal to Wash’s debt. Trades like that weren’t exactly unheard of.

While Wash ran a quick search for high-end items – mostly different kinds of artwork or jewels that people were far too happy to show off through various forms of media – an engine growled and roared in the parking lot, the sound dying abruptly outside the room.

Fear clenched Wash’s heart and he froze, staring blankly down at his phone with wide eyes. A car door opened and slammed closed, and then Wash was moving.

He launched himself off the bed, the springs creaking and squealing in protest, and he threw his notebook into an open duffel bag at his feet. The bag was slung over his shoulder and Wash stuffed his phone into his pocket, scrambling at the car keys hanging from his belt loop. The front door wasn’t an option, not if trouble was right outside, but Wash had chosen the room solely because this hotel had large bathroom windows. They were painted shut and would take a bit of effort to move, but it was a possibility.

Wash bolted into the bathroom, slamming the door closed and selecting the small multi-tool from his key ring. He’d special-ordered the small tool, so that it contained a set of simple lock picks along with the normal gadgets. But his main interest at the moment was the tiny knife that snapped out of its protective covering, the metal reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights in the bathroom.

Tiny knife in hand, Wash attacked the paint lining the window frame, cutting the oily film away from the edges. It had fallen oddly quiet outside and Wash moved as quickly as he could, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he was overreacting and nothing was actually wrong. He much preferred overreacting – at least it would mean he’d actually gotten up and done something about the sticky window if he needed it later.

Seconds later, Wash’s hopes were dashed when the room’s door was kicked in, crashing against the wall behind it, and Wash jumped. He had gotten most of the paint cleared away from the frame, but there were still places that stuck together stubbornly.

Wash shoved the window upward, straining against the hardened paint, and he had managed to move it a whole two, shuddering inches before the bathroom door burst open.

Yelping, Wash jumped again and spun, nearly falling over the toilet when it got behind his heels. He held out the small, inch-long knife like a real weapon, clutching the strap of his duffel bag close.

Two men stood in the doorway, big burly men that Wash vaguely recognized. Neither one held a weapon, but the bulges beneath their jackets were unmistakable. Both of them were quite nondescript, unlike thugs on television – no fifties mobster jackets and hats, no sleeve tattoos, no rough facial hair or face-marring scars. They just looked like normal, if very irritable, men.

Wash chuckled, the sound strained as he slowly straightened up, spreading his hands with his keys dangling from the key ring slipped around his finger. He tried to smile as genuinely as he could, but Wash figured it probably came across more sickly and nervous.

Today was just not Wash’s day.

**Present Day**

“Wash, wake up!” a young voice cried, and Wash jerked upright as small hands shook his arm violently. He blinked blearily, trying to make sense of what was going on, as Theta giggled next to him.

“Why?” Wash moaned, collapsing back on the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the bright lights overhead. Cool air smacked against his bare chest and he scrambled for the blankets with his available hand, snagging them and pulling them up to his chin.

“Wash,” Theta sighed, drawing out Wash’s name into a childish whine. “Come on. Dad said you need to get up. You’re running late for the meeting again.”

All drowsiness left Wash and he threw his arm off his face, staring up at Theta with wide eyes. “What meeting?” he asked anxiously. The ten-year-old shrugged, toying with the strings of his purple hoodie. His dad had recently let him dye his hair, and the dark strands were tipped with vibrant purple. Gel kept his hair sticking straight up in perfect spikes, and his blue eyes were bright and cheerful.

“I dunno. The Director has some more jobs or something. Dad just said that it’s starting and they aren’t gonna wait another half an hour for you to get down there,” Theta said, his voice deepening slightly and becoming amusingly stern as he quoted North.

“Fuck,” Wash spit out, throwing his blankets off and leaping out of bed. He paused for a split second in front of his dresser to glance over his shoulder at Theta and said quickly, “You didn’t hear me say that.”

Theta hopped up on Wash’s bed, feet swinging above the carpet, as he watched Wash throw clothing out of his dresser and onto the floor. “It’s okay if you swear, you know. Aunt South does it all the time, and dad just told me to block it out and forget I heard it,” Theta said dismissively.

“And how many arguments have North and South had about her swearing in front of you?” Wash asked, hopping in place as he struggled to slip a sock onto his foot. “As I recall, last time it happened, they almost got into a physical fight over it, and North refused to talk to her for three days. And that was with someone he’s related to – I’m not taking any chances. Have you seen my other shoe?”

Wash shoved his foot into the shoe he had found and spun in place looking for the other, a shirt dangling from his hand. Theta shifted in place, looking without really moving, and Wash griped, “Epsilon, why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”

The phone charging on the nightstand beside Wash’s bed lit up bright blue, and abstract, pixilated designs pulsed across the screen. Within the static and random shapes, a human face could just be made out, and the light brightened and dimmed as a voice came from the small speaker.

“It’s not my fucking fault, now, is it?” the AI grumbled. “I was screaming at you for an entire fucking hour. You’re the asshole who refused to get up.”

“Maybe you should’ve tried screaming a little louder,” Wash suggested mildly, throwing his shirt on over his head and brushing his hair back.

Epsilon snorted, and Wash could just picture the program rolling its eyes. “Yeah, cause I was just fucking whisper-screaming the entire time. My bad,” he said sarcastically.

“See, Epsilon swears, too, and he doesn’t get in trouble,” Theta said, breaking into the argument as he bent down and fished Wash’s other shoe out from beneath some blankets that had fallen beside the bed. Wash grabbed it out of his hand with a nod of thanks, shoving it on his other foot.

“Oh, hi, Theta. Didn’t know you were there,” Epsilon said, far more cheerfully than any time he ever spoke to Wash.

“Liar. You always listen in to what’s going on. You probably knew Theta was here as soon as he opened the door. Also, Epsilon is a bad role model, kid. Don’t listen to him,” Wash griped, checking to make sure he had everything. “Alright, we gotta go.” He grabbed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, muffling Epsilon’s protests and complaints. He held his bedroom door open and gestured for Theta to go out ahead of him.

“Your shoes are untied,” Theta said, pointing down to Wash’s feet as he went past.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m running really late. I just won’t trip. Now we gotta go,” Wash said quickly, following Theta out and closing his bedroom door. The little boy grabbed a skateboard up from where it had been leaning against the wall and Wash raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Technically, Theta was no longer allowed to keep it inside, not after he, Wash, and York accidentally broke the fridge after a short-lived race. But if North had no problems with it, then Wash didn’t, either.

The floor that they lived on was dedicated to Carolina’s team, which included Wash and Theta. Six bedrooms were closed off, each person’s individual mess hidden away behind the doors. The two bathrooms were likewise closed off, leaving only the large, central living space open and visible.

Despite any messes in everyone’s personal spaces, the living area was almost spotless. A large television was mounted on the wall, across from the long couch. A couple gaming consoles sat on a shelf, with a collection of controllers and games that had been carefully arranged on shelves of their own. The open kitchen had clean counters and there were no dishes piled up in the sink. The only thing out of place was the blanket nest at the corner of the couch and a single wireless controller sitting nearby.

A glass elevator sat in the center of the large open space, the clear walls making the room seem more open and less like a giant block had been thrown into the center of it. But Wash ignored the elevator and went for the stairs against the wall instead. They only had to go down one floor; it would be a lot faster to just rush down stairs than wait for the elevator.

Theta had to work to keep up with Wash’s long strides as he hit the stairs and vaulted down them. He very nearly tripped over his untied shoes when he caught the lace beneath one of his heels, and he tried to ignore Theta giggling behind him.

Wash shoved open the door to the next floor, stepping into the hallway of an office building. This floor had undergone minimal renovations when their group had moved in, so it still looked just like the office complex it had once been. The hall always felt too narrow and cramped for Wash’s tastes, with the hard wood walls and plain doors that were always closed. The only space that seemed open at all was the conference room at the end of the hall.

The room was made similar to the elevator nearby, lined with glass walls to make the center space appear more open. Theta quickly shoved his skateboard into a corner near the stairs as Wash sighed and ran a hand through his hair, walking quickly down the hall to the room full of his companions.

Almost everyone in the room turned to look at him when Wash entered and his steps slowed, a half-hearted smile coming to his face as he looked around. Carolina scowled and crossed her arms over her chest, quite clearly annoyed. North looked at Wash with a fatherly disappointment that he often saved just for Theta. Tex leaned back in her chair and laced her hands behind her head, smirking, and out of all of them, Florida was the only one that attempted to return Wash’s smile.

A man stood at the front of the room, dressed in a suit and with a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His was balding and the hair that he did have was dark and streaked with grey. He frowned at Wash and Wash shuffled his feet, his small smile fading under the Director’s gaze.

“I’m glad you were able to join us, Washington,” the Director drawled, and Wash felt worse under his gaze than he did under North’s.

“Sorry,” Wash muttered, dropping into an empty chair beside Florida while Theta shuffled quietly to his dad’s side. The Director continued to stare at Wash for a moment before he looked away, and Florida patted Wash on the shoulder comfortingly. His hand lingered on Wash’s shoulder for a moment afterward, until Wash shrugged it off as he slouched down in his seat.

“Now that we’re all here,” the Director said, his words pointed even though he wasn’t looking at Wash, “we can continue. Carolina, Tex, I want each of your teams on different assignments. I’ve gathered all the necessary information for each, and I will allow the two of you to decide which assignment you will take on.”

Two files sat on the table in front of the Director and he pushed them so they slid across the table and stopped between Tex and Carolina. Immediately, Carolina snatched the closest and flipped it open, scanning the pages inside. She must’ve liked what it contained, since she snapped the folder closed with a faint smile and a nod.

Tex smiled and grabbed the other folder, bringing it close. She didn’t even open it, instead clasping her hands on the file and turning her attention to the Director. Wash met York’s eye across the table, and York rolled his eyes, smiling faintly. Wash snorted and nodded in understanding. The two team leaders were like this almost constantly. It was a little ridiculous sometimes.

Glancing between the two, the Director nodded, apparently satisfied. “I would like these completed quickly and without anyone drawing undue attention to themselves,” he continued. This time, his accusing gaze turned to CT and she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away. “And those of you using AI programs need to keep usage minimal during your jobs. We do not need anyone else gaining knowledge of, and attempting to acquire, our technology.”

Wash touched his phone absently and nodded. Wyoming nodded as well, adjusting the sunglasses on top of his head that his program, Gamma, powered. York gave the Director a quick thumbs-up, though Wash knew he, at least, had no intention of stopping his AI use. He enjoying working with Delta too much, and Delta was pretty damn useful. Though York also didn’t often work around other people, so there wasn’t a very high chance of anyone else noticing the AI.

“I should leave you to prepare. Thank you all, and perhaps next time, we can all meet when we’re supposed to,” the Director said with a quick, narrow-eyed glance at Wash. Wash avoided his eyes, his ears heating up with embarrassment. “And Theta?” the Director called as everyone started getting up to leave, getting the boy’s attention. “I do hope you were on your way outside with that skateboard.”

Theta looked down guiltily and nodded, hurrying out of the conference room and heading to the stairs where he’d left his skateboard.

“Where _were_ you?” Carolina demanded as soon as they were in the hallway, coming up beside Wash. “You knew the Director wanted to talk to us today.”

“I was sleeping,” Wash protested. “Why didn’t anyone come wake me up?”

“Epsilon was screaming all morning. We thought you heard it. Or you left your phone behind again and wandered off,” North said behind Wash. “Go take that outside, Theta.”

“Okay,” Theta sighed, disappearing down the stairwell with his skateboard.

“How in the world did you sleep through Epsilon? It sounded like he was trying to wake up the whole building!” York asked, lingering on Wash’s left so he could properly see Wash. A ragged scar ran through his left eye, and Wash had suggested he grow his short hair longer to hide it if he wanted, but York insisted that would look ridiculous. And yet York insisted on wearing a pirate eyepatch with a skull and crossbones on the leather from time to time, and Wash wasn’t sure how that was any less ridiculous than long hair.

“Sure as hell woke me up,” South grumbled, blowing her light hair out of her face.

“See? I know what I’m doing,” Epsilon crowed, his voice muffled by Wash’s pocket, but still quite clear.

“No one asked you,” Wash huffed, covering his pocket with his hand. York grinned at him, eyes flicking down to where his phone sat, and Wash frowned back, making York chuckle. Wash was sure that York had created the program to be an annoying asshole, despite York’s continued protests otherwise, just because he took far too much amusement out of listening to Wash argue with a cellphone.

Wyoming stepped up to the group, throwing an arm across Wash’s shoulders. “I’m sure Washington was just recovering from his resounding defeat in Halo last night,” he said cheerfully, a grin growing beneath his bushy mustache. He spoke with a very pronounced British accent that always made Wash wonder how he’d gotten his code name. Though honestly, a lot of the code names didn’t make much sense.

“You were up playing video games all night?” Carolina demanded, scowling at Wash and crossing her arms over her chest like an upset mother. “Honestly, Wash, of all the stupid excuses –”

“Come on, Lina, let him be,” York interrupted, grinning at her around Wyoming and Wash. “The guy did get beat pretty thoroughly, then got forced awake by a kid and a computer program, and survived the Director’s death glare. I think he knows all the ways he fucked up by now.”

“York,” North admonished, frowning, and York raised his hands in a placating gesture while fighting to keep a straight face.

“What? Theta’s not around right now. I’m a full-grown adult; I need a chance to swear now and again,” York protested.

South scoffed, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I tried that excuse already. It doesn’t work,” she said.

“Because it’s not a valid excuse!” North accused, his voice rising in frustration, and Wash lifted a hand to his mouth to hide a smile. Carolina started to relax her stern, upset stance, her arms falling back to her side and eyes shining with her own amusement.

“I’m pretty sure Theta is more of an adult than any of you,” she said, looking at York, Wash, and Wyoming.

York grimaced, clutching at his chest. “Ouch, Lina. That hurt,” he said pitifully. Wash and North exchanged amused glances and Wyoming started laughing.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Carolina said dismissively, a smirk crossing her face and eyes shining. York groaned and collapsed against Wash’s side, sending him stumbling into Wyoming as York’s weight landed on his shoulder, pressing him down awkwardly.

“She’s killing me, Wash,” he moaned dramatically.

“And you’re killing _me_. Get off, you idiot,” Wash said, rolling his eyes and shoving York off of his side. York stumbled away, pouting, and North started laughing.

“Wyoming,” an electronic voice said, devoid of any real tone or anything defining. Wash looked around, which was a little difficult with Wyoming still draped over his shoulders. CT, Florida, Tex, and Maine stood off to the side, and Tex had one eyebrow raised at Wyoming. Maine made a quick gesture, his dark gloves studded with metal pieces and thin wires flashing in the light, and the box at his hip spoke in the same voice. “Come.”

“We have to start planning,” Tex added, lifting her file pointedly. Wyoming sighed and pulled his arm away from Wash’s shoulders, nodding.

“Alright. I will see you all later then,” Wyoming said.

“I want a rematch,” Wash declared as Wyoming walked away, and Wyoming turned so he was walking backwards, a full grin beneath his mustache.

“So you said last night. And I’m more than happy to put you down again,” he said cheerfully before he went with his team into one of the smaller, side conference rooms on the floor.

Wash huffed and crossed his arms over his chest while Epsilon spoke up from his pocket. “You know it’s highly unlikely that you’ll actually be significantly better in a rematch,” he said and Wash fished his phone out of his pocket.

“Shut up. You sound like Delta,” he griped, and he noticed York come up behind his shoulder, waving at the phone.

“Fine. You got your ass kicked, and you suck so bad that I know it’ll happen again. That better?” Epsilon corrected and Wash sighed. “And hello, York. You came back to life quickly.”

“I’m a fast healer,” York agreed.

“Okay, enough of this. Tex has the right idea. We also need to get started on our planning,” Carolina interrupted, and Wash lifted an eyebrow. He suspected she was only so eager to get started because Tex was; she hated to start a job later than Tex and her team. They had rushed to be the first to begin on the last three jobs, and she had gotten extremely wound up when it had almost seemed to not happen the last time.

South shrugged. “Sure. Why not,” she said, heading down the hall alone and to the room that they normally claimed. The others followed her, knowing Theta would appear as soon as he could. In the meantime, they had something they needed to do.


	2. York

**Four Years Ago**          

 York leaned back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, and spinning back and forth slowly as he waited for his program to finish running. His entire system was frustratingly outdated, and though he did plan to get it fixed up and more up to date, he simply hadn’t gotten around to it yet. So his old ass computer chugged along, fans whirring loudly in the tower and the small screen letting out a low droning buzz, as it finished its scan.

At this point, York wasn’t even sure what he was delving into. Not really. He knew some new company had taken up part of the building a few blocks down, a place that had been vacant for ages due to their high asking price, and he wanted to know who was around. And test out their security. There wasn’t anywhere in a ten-mile radius that York hadn’t gotten access to, and with a new place, he was hoping for _some_ challenge. Besides a weak firewall that was probably worse than the security on a child’s learning laptop and a, generally predictable, password.

He didn’t have very high hopes, since it was likely a quick installation of a simple, stand-in system while they got themselves worked out. A simple system that would probably be left in place due to laziness and the idea that it worked for _this_ long, why not a little more? Those were no challenge at all.

York rubbed at his short, light brown hair with his thumbs as he watched the screen, one brown eye locked on the string of green characters popping up in short bursts. His other eye was covered with an eye patch from a children’s costume shop – a tight rubber band holding a colorful felt creation in place, a skull and crossbones stuck to the front in the same material. The ends of a scar could just be seen at the top and bottom of the eye patch, white lines against his lightly tanned skin.

Breaking down the opposing firewall was taking longer than normal. Most places around here wouldn’t have stood this long against York’s program, poking and prodding and looking for weaknesses and chinks in the firewall. Admittedly, most of them had weaknesses big enough that anyone could stroll leisurely through if they found it, but apparently this place was set up different. It actually was providing a little bit more of a challenge, at least to the program York had spent quite a bit of time crafting.

He let it continue for another minute, watching as every little test jab was deflected and thwarted by a system York was realizing was more complex than he had expected. These updates came in annoying little bursts of activity as his computer paused to catch up, and he was growing impatient and wishing even more he had fixed his computer system when he’d had a chance.

Finally, York leaned forward and, with a quick command sequence, shut down the program so he could attack the problem manually. If it was going to cause this many problems, fight back, he wanted to actually be the one to get through. Not the automated system he’d put down to test the waters.

As York worked, he found himself growing more and more impressed with the level of security in a newly occupied building. The firewall had very few flaws for him to exploit, and the ones it did have took him a little bit of time to track down. And as soon as he had, and York had managed to banish the firewall, there was another wall in his way. Not a flimsy password system he’d expected, but something that looked like it might need more brute force to overcome than he usually used.

York grinned, more than happy with what was being offered from the new company, and growing more curious as to what could be hidden behind all these layers.

Getting through took some time. The light faded around the edges of the blinds covering the windows, and York grabbed at some chips nearby when his stomach protested the fact that he’d eaten little _but_ chips since he’d woken up. But finally, after turning to an alternate method for the third time, York’s logo popped up and came to life on the screen. A grinning skull and crossbones made out of binary code that spelled out “Computer Pirate” many times over. It meant he was through.

The logo flickered and then disappeared, and a desktop image appeared on his screen. It wasn’t his own, and the background pulsed and spun gently beneath the minimal icons. But the other system was only visible for a moment, before it suddenly went to black, and a small alert flashed at the corner of York’s screen.

For once, his system was the one being hacked.

A few quick commands and some more slow strings of green text told York that the hack wasn’t coming from the building he’d been breaking into. He didn’t know where it was _exactly_ , but he did know the source of this hack was coming from too far away to be the well-protected company.

Though after so long operating safely in his home, York had no idea who would be trying to come at him now. 

**Present Day**

York sat back in his seat, laptop resting on his knees as he finished up the final touches to the set-up portion of the plan. There were aliases to double check, he had to make sure he’d sent out the calls and emails he was supposed to, his supplies had to be in order and ready for use. It was a lot to manage.

“Are you done yet?” South groaned, leaning down to look through the car window to see what York was doing. She was dressed in a dark security guard uniform, and York would not have been surprised in the least if she had managed to slip a few extra weapons in along with the ones already sitting on her belt.

“I could be, if you want Carolina and Wash’s backgrounds to fall through because there are a few blanks,” York answered with a large smile that he had repeatedly been told was annoying.

“South, let him finish. We still have a couple minutes, and I’d like it if we can get more than thirty seconds into this heist without something going wrong,” Carolina said, her voice coming clearly through the comms York had rigged up for their group. “Though it would have been nice if this had been completed last night instead of whatever you all were doing.”

York paused in typing, frowning off into the distance. He couldn’t see Carolina from where he was, so he couldn’t frown at her directly, but this would have to do. “Look, it was a very important race, Lina!” he protested, and South laughed.

“An important race you lost. To a kid,” she scoffed, and now York had someone to turn his frown toward.

“I didn’t lose to Theta,” he insisted, jabbing a finger at South, but her taunting smile said she didn’t believe him. “I lost to Wash, who just so happened to have Theta on his back.”

“I wasn’t racing,” Wash declared through the comms. “I told you guys I wouldn’t join your race. I was just helping make things fair so Theta could join instead. You couldn’t expect a ten-year-old to match your pace, could you?”

“Theta might’ve been able to win all on his own after York tripped halfway down the stretch,” North teased, and York rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he went back to what he had been working on.

“I could’ve beaten you all, and you know it,” he huffed.

“Boys, boys, you’re all idiots,” Carolina interrupted, cutting over the end of York’s reply. “The bus is going to be here any minute, are you done yet, York?”

“Didn’t you just get onto South for asking that?” York complained, decisively hitting enter. South grinned at him through the window and he snapped his laptop shut, tucking it away into the foot well of the car. “But yeah, yeah I’m done. Your histories as lab inspectors should be good enough to convince these guys.”

Carolina let out a skeptical hum as York hopped out of the car, locking it behind him. “ _Should_ be good enough?” she repeated.

“They are good enough. Trust me. It’ll be fine,” York corrected, grabbing a hat from on top of the car and flipping it onto his head. He had traded out his fun pirate eyepatch for a regular black one, to go with the guard uniform and make him look more professional. “You’re missing your badge.”

South put her hat on and patted down her pockets, eventually pulling out a laminated ID badge from one of her pockets and clipping it to her uniform. York’s was already in place, clipped on as soon as he had finished putting it together that morning.

The two of them stood at the edge of the SimTech parking lot. It was full of cars, and people walked in and out of the glass front doors a short ways away. The SimTech building looked modern, with its excessive windows and metallic edging and smooth white walls. Well-kept greenery decorated the entrance, and a metal statue of a molecule sat right in front of the doors. Really, it was a pretty nice-looking place, though York knew that some of the dirtier businesses were more likely to be found in pretty places.

“You’re sure the actual guards won’t be here?” South asked, and York nodded, checking to make sure he had everything he needed stowed away in the utility belt or his pockets.

“Positive. They were both given the day off and a chance to see a football game later this afternoon, as thanks for all their hard work,” York said, nodding to himself. He seemed to have everything in order. “Ready.”

“York and I are heading in,” South informed the rest of the team, leading the way up to the building with York following close behind. He could just see Carolina and Wash in their car on the other side of the parking lot, waiting for their chance to go in.

“And here comes the bus. North, Theta, you guys good?” Carolina asked. A school bus slowly turned into the parking lot, and York and South quickly crossed to the front doors before it reached them.

“Good to go,” North answered.

“Ready,” said Theta. “Do you think Junior will be there?”

“I think he will,” North said. “Junior normally doesn’t miss school.”

South and York stepped inside the building, and the air conditioner blew cool air in their faces as soon as they opened the door. It was a little chilly inside and York suppressed a shiver, walking alongside South to the checkpoint.

SimTech had security of both good quality and quantity. Its system was closed off from the internet, making an external hack impossible, which was why York was going inside in the first place. What he did know was that it was full of cameras, sensors, RFID tracked badges, and probably scanners and keypads in certain areas. Everything they dealt with was heavily protected so that their formulas and methods stayed their own, since someone could make a pretty penny off of some of the medication they were testing if it got out.

The entrance of the building had a map of the facility, a directory on the wall of the offices on the upper floor, and a large receptionist’s desk. Everything else was on the other side of a metal detector checkpoint, manned by a guard dressed similarly to South and York.

The guard looked at them and frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who are you two? Where are Charles and Evan?” he asked.

“They changed up the schedule on us last minute again. We just left this place a few hours ago and now we’re back to take their shift. Who knows why,” South griped, shaking her head. “Whatever the reason, those two owe us for this, wouldn’t you say?”

“That sucks. The supervisor mixed things up for me before, too, I know how it goes. Charles and Evan seem to have gotten it good this time,” the guard sighed sympathetically. “Let me scan your badges and get you guys on your way. Hopefully you won’t have it too rough.”

York unclipped his badge and passed it to the guard, who scanned it into a machine close at hand. York held his breath, hoping it worked out. Since he couldn’t plug new barcode information into the system, he’d replicated the badges of the two guards they were replacing. He just didn’t know how much information the screen showed when it was scanned.

Thankfully, the guard barely even glanced at the screen when he scanned in the two badges, passing them back as soon as the machine beeped cheerfully. “Alright, come on through, you’re good to go,” he said, opening up a door beside the metal detector that would normally allow wheelchairs through.

York grinned, saluting the guard with two fingers. “Thanks, man,” he said cheerfully. “And you might want to double check your schedule too, just in case. You never know when someone might decide to switch things up, y’know?”

The guard grimaced and nodded. “Don’t have to tell me twice. Damn higher ups seem to get their kicks messing with us,” he said, nodding back.

South and York moved away from the checkpoint and further into the facility, and York looked around for signs to the security room. “You know where we’re going, right?” South said dryly when York paused at an intersection to look around.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Cause I managed to get blueprints that I can’t access before we came,” York answered in the same tone, taking the turn at random.

“There was a map in the entrance, didn’t you look at it?” South asked.

“No, I was more concerned about getting past the checkpoint. Why didn’t you look if you’re so worried about it?” York grumbled.

“Knock it off, you two,” North said in his dad voice, and York shut up but turned to stick his tongue out at South.

It actually wasn’t too difficult to find the room they wanted, since it was pretty centrally located. Neither of them continued their conversation, instead their walk was accompanied by the buzzing conversation of the rest of the group. Carolina and Wash talked between themselves and Theta chattered happily, occasionally getting North to jump into the conversation. While York wasn't catching everything going on with the team, just hearing them talking was quite soothing.

The room the two of them were looking for looked like any other, a closed wooden door in the middle of a hallway. A sign that read “security” was screwed into the wall next to it, and there was a keypad and scanner set into the door.

“Can you hack it?” South asked.

“Of course,” York said confidently. He curled his hand into a fist, raised his hand, and knocked firmly on the door. There was rustling movement on the other side and he grinned at South. “Hacked it.” She scowled and crossed her arms over her chest as the door swung open.

“You guys can just come in, you know,” said one of the two guards that was inside the room. The other leaned back in his chair in front of the monitors, looking at South and York.

“I’ve been needing to reset my passcode, it hasn’t been working,” York said with a shrug. “I figured I’d do that after our shift. Don’t really feel like dealing with the tech guys just yet, and we’ve already kept you guys waiting.”

The guard returned York’s shrug, apparently unconcerned by his apparent tech troubles. “Fair enough. Just make sure you get that fixed before you go; you know we’re not supposed to open the door for anyone,” he advised, holding the door open for York and South to enter. “C’mon, Harris, let’s leave them to the excitement here.”

Harris got up from his chair, smiling at York and South as he passed, and followed his companion out the door. The wooden door swung closed behind them and automatically locked, leaving the two alone in the security room.

“We’re in,” York said, mimicking the tone of every overly dramatic television hacker. He got more than a couple groans for his trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Returning to this story after some time away from it was quite nice, and I'm hoping I'll be able to keep up on it, since it's planned out a considerable ways out. If nothing else, I got my roommate to yell at me to keep writing, so we'll see if it works.
> 
> I also have just set up a Patreon for my writing, so if you're interested in checking it out and pledging a bit of money each month for extra writing things, the link is in my profile!


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